Triptych: Death Sentences

Before lizards grew so big I would look around at the way others fell like flies, and I’d evolve into anything lizards wouldn’t eat—kimchi or edamame.

I got the idea that I would stop by each cross and let something go, that sometimes it would be real and sometimes the dying thing would be me—or else my shoe.

I can’t promise your head will fit in my house or that your hat will fit in my pocket, or that the color of your dress will work in this green and weepy place.